In the Days of the Red Moon
by Black Mage Dad
Summary: An eerie story of Kuja's life from his point of view, put into the simple words of a man who has seen all and learned all, with a spooky ending that will leave you wondering.


Garland used to tell me I was a slow learner. He ranted and raved about it all the time. I was supposed to be intelligent, he'd say. So why did it take me so long to get anything right? I even absorbed information from the great crystal in Pandemonium slowly.  
  
Back then, I took everything slow. I thought I had all the time in the world; centuries upon centuries to hone my powers to perfection. If he had just told me then that I would probably not live past twenty-five, perhaps I would have attempted to learn things quicker.  
  
Sometimes, he even beat me for it. Not often, though. He wasn't like that. He was much worse. He would give me this look of . . . disappointment. As if I were a disgusting caterpillar that had emerged from its cocoon even uglier than it was before. Those eyes would be full of defeat and regret. And then I would be racked with guilt for the rest of the day. Not that we have days on Terra.  
  
Back then, I was much duller in appearance. Though I stood out from the rest of the genomes with my silvery hair and smooth complexion, I was still nothing but a kid. Garland seemed to like it that way. He figured, as long as I looked somewhat like the rest of them, I would always remain in his grasp.  
  
But things changed quickly. Faster than my ability to learn, that was for sure. For though I may have been slow, I was no idiot. I let my hair grow down to my shoulders - a bold act if there ever was one. After a training session where I had to kill a silver dragon, I plucked three feathers from its hide and pinned them into my hairline. Garland was disgusted and tore them out. He threatened to cut my hair. He threatened to do a lot of things. But he never did.  
  
When Zidane came into my life, I didn't feel abandoned. I didn't feel thrown out. I didn't even hate him. I just felt . . . slow. That stupidity Garland seemed to think was branded into me forever. So I made my plans fast, and I disposed of my brother as soon as possible.  
  
Garland's eyes were so filled with disappointment again. It hurt so bad that I gladly accepted my mission to destroy the Summoner village. Any opportunity to get away from those defeated eyes was a blessing.  
  
That was the first taste of Gaia I ever got. And I never wanted to go back to the Red Moon. I didn't want to return to a place where the water ran still and time ceased to exist. Where eyes of frustration followed me everywhere.  
  
But I didn't have to go back. Not ever again. Garland gave me a new mission, one that was both sweet and bitter at the same time. It involved me staying on Gaia, and also me destroying it. But I didn't care if I had to raze such beauty. As long as I was there, I was happy.  
  
And now that I was no longer under Garland's fierce gaze, I began my miraculous transformation. I allowed my hair to grow luxuriously down to my waist and cut it into fine, beautiful layers. The silver dragon that I brought with me from Terra was soon relieved of three feathers which somehow found their way back into my hair. At first, I dressed in the clothes of a simple peasant. I was still very plain, and I had not yet begun my mission.  
  
Then one day, while wandering through the great Dark City Treno, I came across a beautiful mansion. They said it was an auction house and everything inside was so elegant that it took my breath away. It was owned by the King family, and I thought them snobby. For the first time in my life, I suddenly began to think fast. Plans formed in my head and began to connect in impossible ways. So I "kindly" disposed of the King family and told the people of Treno I was a long lost relative and the rightful heir to the mansion. Once I had the auction house, I was obliged to become like one of them: a great noble of Treno.  
  
Before I knew it, I was the most fashionable man in all of Gaia. My favorite outfit was a purple and gold breastplate with a flowing white hakama and great bell sleeves. I felt powerful in those clothes, because they were as far away from the clothes of Terra as was possible. I began to wear make-up, and for the first time I realized what beautiful blue eyes I had.  
  
Did I become narcissistic? You can't even imagine . . . I was obsessed with myself. I was everything Garland thought I would never be. I was gorgeous, I was elegant, and those who saw me thought I was a god. Eventually, I had my Desert Palace built in the storming sands of the Outer Continent. I had it placed underground in a drift where no one could find it, yet inside was a marvel worthy of the title "Wonder of the World." I was obsessed with beauty, I thrived on it.  
  
What a blow when my one means of completing my mission was the ugliest, fattest, most grotesque woman on the face of the planet . . . Queen Brahne was so hideous that I nearly retched whenever I looked at her. She was a spot on my soul, not even worthy of the her twin jester's presence.  
  
But her daughter. Her daughter was almost as beautiful as me. She was like a flower, the only spot of artistic delicacy in an otherwise unrefined city. She was so delicate that I was often afraid if I breathed too close to her, it would harm her perfect flesh. I longed to touch her, to hold her. But she was always under the watchful eye of that ridiculous Doctor Tot and her obscene mother.  
  
However, there was one other in that bleak place who was not quite as forbidden as my precious princess. General Beatrix. The seductive General Beatrix. A rose covered in jagged thorns. For attached to her perfectly rounded hips was a sword, and within her well-developed bosom was a heart that saw right through me.  
  
She knew my intentions. As did Doctor Tot. But they could not get through to their queen. She was stupid and quite intrigued with me. If only Garland could have seen his precious Angel of Death then. I was everything he'd hoped for and everything he would never have. For some time within my stay at Gaia I was overcome with a sudden urge to rebel. To destroy my creator. I plotted behind his back in ways that made me seem like a "good little boy." And all the while I altered my appearance so that he would not even recognize me anymore. I lost a lot of weight and spent hours obsessing over my face. I was very feminine at that point, and yet was steadily gaining a power he thought my slow wits could never comprehend.  
  
I planned the destruction of Gaia. I allowed the putrid Queen Brahne to nearly destroy my sweet canary. I watched her call upon the guardians of the world. Then I sat, like a spider on the wall, until the moment when I could take it all from her.  
  
And I did. I really did. I thought I had everything. But something had come up during all this that caused me to doubt even my own powers. I saw Him again. That accursed Zidane. How did he survive?! I abandoned him on Gaia to the cold and hunger of the night. Left him to be devoured by wolves and drowned by the smoky rivers of the Mist Continent. Could he really be more powerful than I? Could Garland have known this?  
  
Still, I continued. I was winning. I was basking in glory and my own beauty. On the night of the Holy Judgment, I waited to take my prey. The final step to complete control. I would finally have enough power to defeat my maker. But Garland was one step ahead of me once more. He tried to kill me. To kill my dreams. And I nearly lost, I'll admit it. I lay in Alexandria for days, too injured and too furious to move. But then I was back and ready to complete my task.  
  
Garland was still trying to assimilate the Red and Blue moons. But I would not let him. I would not sacrifice my soul for any man. He had underestimated me, and thought I was still the sluggish dim-wit that I had been on Terra. Well, I'd show him. I would continue to gain power until I could destroy him. Then my soul would be mine and I would finally be the independent creature I had intended to be all along. I was confident. I had hidden my tail for so many years that I thought it was really gone. Zidane did not remember me. I had left the genomes behind.  
  
But nature has a way of going in loops, and in the end I wound up back on Terra. Oh, the surprise on Garland's face to see me alive. He hadn't changed a bit, whereas I was no longer Kuja the Puppet but Kuja the Unconstrained. I watched my brother, my canary, my first creation, and a host of anomalistic creatures weaken him and then allowed myself to deal the final blow.  
  
I watched him fall and drank the feeling of my boot hitting his armor as if it were the nectar of the sweetest bee. I felt as if I were being relieved of every leash, burden, and restraint that had ever tainted my freedom. I was the victor.  
  
And I was free.  
  
But life is never kind to those who have wronged it. I guess that is the way nature should work. That is, until you are the one it is playing with. Garland was not content with just allowing me to live in freedom. He knew the truth, and knew that whether I knew it or not wouldn't matter. But he chose to tell me anyways, as a sort of cruel, sadistic parting gift.  
  
I was dying. Dying like the leaves of fall. Dying like snow into summer. Dying like my dreams . . .  
  
How much longer did I have? I didn't care. It wasn't important. For in the end, I would be dead. And I would be alone. Forever. I had never loved or been loved in return. I had never heard a kind word from a mortal creature. I had never tasted freedom.  
  
I had gotten my one sample of power that day. I was in a form that I should not have been able to have. I was the ultimate being; the most powerful creature alive. But I could not contain my pain. I could not hold it in. I could not cry. I was beyond tears. Garland had drained me of them many lives ago. So I did the only thing I had been taught to do:  
  
I destroyed.  
  
I watched the Red Moon go up in flames. I watched my childhood memories curl up into smoke. The trees fell, and the towers crumbled. And I had no regrets. For Garland was there too. And he would burn in hell with them.  
  
But I was not satisfied. I would not die alone. I would not be the only one to have such a cruel fate. In my hysterical state, the thought never crossed my mind that this was the destiny I had given my own creations. In a sense, I had become Garland. I was the man I loathed the most. But I didn't care. My mind was gone. Lost between the corruption of the souls in my body and the agony of my shattered hopes.  
  
So I sought the Crystal, the strand of matter that held the universe in balance. I would crush it, as Garland had crushed my dreams, and then the world would die with me. I would not be alone. I would grant the universe eternal peace. I would give them what they deserved - what I deserved.  
  
But they came - Zidane and his ragamuffin crew. I no longer cared if my canary died. I didn't care if my winning meant the beautiful General Beatrix perished with me. I was all that mattered. My life. For I had never lived. And now they would pay.  
  
A battle ensued, but by the end I was so weary that I gave up. I would take them all out in one blow. What did I care? I was dying, and my actions meant nothing. Never before had I been so impulsive. So I unleashed a blast of energy that could have taken down a city. But the Crystal did not shatter. I watched it tremble before vanishing. I saw my brother and his comrades collapse, and then they, too, seemed to disappear. It took me several seconds to realize that they had not disappeared; I was falling. The blast had knocked me out of Memoria, and I was tumbling for miles.  
  
What I hit was not the ground, but the Iifa Tree - the very source of my evil. So ironic that I should land there. But my body was destroyed, and my mind was beyond reach. I lay there for what seemed like a thousand lifetimes. But somewhere, from the far reaches of my tattered psyche, I was beginning to learn. It was slow at first, as Garland always complained it was, and then it went faster. I was enlightened. I could feel the destruction above me; knew the forces of the universe were destroying my brother and his friends. And then a strange feeling came over me . . .  
  
I didn't want them to die. I didn't want Zidane to die. I didn't want him to suffer as I had. Garland may have triumphed over me, but he would not defeat my brother or the sister I had never known.  
  
I used what remained of my magic to teleport them all to safety. They would never know their savior. But it didn't matter to me anymore . . . Life would go on without me. And it was what I deserved.  
  
So in what I thought to be my final moments, I bade a private farewell to Zidane. I did not expect him to return - I did not want him to return - but he did. I had never realized before, how much he looked like me when I was his age; a stupid kid with big hopes and dreams. He had not yet learned the shadow of defeat that was slowly eating me away.  
  
He tried to save me, but the Iifa Tree would not let us go. His body shielded a dying man, and I was angry. I teleported him as far from the tree as I could and waited to be consumed.  
  
I don't remember what happened then. I don't think I was meant to know. Perhaps I died. Perhaps I didn't. Maybe I was reincarnated. Maybe I lived but was granted the beautiful bliss of amnesia. I do not know. I do not care. Sometimes I wonder if there ever really was a limit on my life. If perhaps Garland had fed me a lie and allowed the power of suggestion to slowly kill me. To let me kill myself. I guess it's not important. For one way or another, we all won in the end. And whether I lived or died, I was free. And that was all that mattered.  
  
Yet I find it strange, that I have only one memory in this independent mind of mine: of standing in a crowd before a stage, as the applause rises into a screaming pitch upon the air. And as I watch, only three words escape my lips:  
  
Bravo, Zidane . . . Bravo . . . 


End file.
